His daughter at this time was nineteen years old, and the general found her expenses an ever-increasing tax upon his slender resources.  He was therefore glad to throw no obstacle in Lavretsky’s way—­having discovered that he was wealthy—­when, six months after their first meeting, he proposed for his daughter’s hand.

Barbara Paulovna had much practical sense, and a very great love of comfort, together with a great faculty of obtaining it for herself.  What charming travelling knick-knacks appeared from various corners of the luxurious carriage that she had purchased to convey them to Lavretsky’s country home!  And how delightfully she herself made coffee in the morning!  Lavretsky, however, was not disposed to be observant at that time:  he was blissful, drunk with happiness; he gave himself up to it like a child; indeed, he was as innocent as a child, this young Hercules.  Not in vain was the whole personality of his young wife breathing with fascination; not in vain was her promise to the senses of a mysterious luxury of untold bliss:  her fulfilment was richer than her promise.

Barbara Paulovna had no mind to establish herself permanently at Lavriky.  The idea of staying in that out-of-the-way corner of the steppes never entered her head for an instant.  In September she carried her husband off to St. Petersburg, where they passed two winters; the summer they spent at Tsarskoe Selo.  They made many acquaintances, went out, and entertained a good deal, and gave the most charming dances and musical evenings.  Barbara Paulovna attracted guests as fire attracts moths.

Fedor Ivanitch did not altogether like such a frivolous life.  He was unwilling to enter the government service, as his wife suggested; still, he remained in St. Petersburg for her pleasure.  He soon discovered, however, that no one hindered him from being alone; that it was not for nothing that he had the quietest and most comfortable study in St. Petersburg; that his tender wife was ever ready to aid him to be alone.

In the course of time a son was born to them, but the poor child did not live long—­it died in the spring, and in the summer Lavretsky took his wife abroad.  One summer and autumn they spent in Germany and Switzerland, and for the winter they went to Paris.

In Paris Barbara Paulovna made herself a little nest as quickly and as cleverly as in St. Petersburg.  She soon drew round herself acquaintances—­at first only Russians, afterwards Frenchmen with very excellent manners and fine-sounding names.  All of them brought their friends, and la belle Mme. de Lavretsky was soon known from Chausee d’Antin to Rue de Lille.

Fedor Ivanitch still busied himself with study, and set to work translating a well-known treatise on irrigation.  “I am not wasting my time,” he thought; “it is all of use; but next winter I must, without fail, return to Russia and get to work.”  An unexpected incident broke up his plans.